


sun dance.

by lushwang (theangryblob)



Series: open road [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Death, M/M, Violence, but like other peoples death, cross-dressing, i think, junshua ransack the wild fucking west, lee woozi is really mean in bed, lusting after death, non-liner narrative, there are corpses but no one major dies, what the fuck am i supposed to tag this yall gimme suggestions and ill add, yes they accidentally adopt a small child whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 04:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13919832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryblob/pseuds/lushwang
Summary: junhui and joshua steal, scam, and fuck their way through life, following the wind (and the sweet scent of cold hard cash) where ever it takes them.





	sun dance.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sundara (miikkaa_xx)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkaa_xx/gifts).



> hello!!! thank u to mika for planting this awful idea in my head, this one's for u babe. thank you to my lovely sweetest cutiest angel beta readers yara and maram for making this legible i owe u my life and my whole ass
> 
> very very VERY loosely inspired by like , bonnie and clyde and shit

they’ve got a small fortune by now. 

jun’s not sure, he’s never counted, but he’s sure joshua goes through it at least once every couple of weeks to make sure it’s all accounted for. they’ve only got about four duffel bags between them: two full of money and whatever goods they have yet to pawn off, one each for what little trinkets and clothes they have. there’s another bag, nine hundred and thirty seven thousand dollars in cash, buried under a cactus sixteen miles out of albuquerque by a highway marker.

(joshua could take all their money and just run, if he wanted to, jun realizes. but he doesn’t, and jun doubts he ever will.)

it would be a good idea to hide  _ all  _ of their money, but jun likes the weight of cash in his hands, likes waving it around carelessly, just because he can. he’s doesn’t have any nice clothes, too much effort to keep them neat and presentable, but he likes taking josh out, nights where they buy something clean and fitted and sexy before they blow their money at a fancy restaurant. 

(he likes the look on the waiters’ faces when they decide to eat with their hands and get the most expensive wine on the list, and still, somehow, pay with the cleanest, crispest bills they’ll ever see. the waiters that look half amused get tipped twice the bill.)

it was joshua’s idea to start stealing from rich people. 

this is only partly because he feels bad about stealing from the broke and under-privileged, just as jun had done before. it’s how they met, actually, and jun would still be at it if joshua weren’t so fucking  _ stubborn _ . he’d never expected this side in the older man, what with his baby face and good natured aura, like he’d be the perfect guy to bring home and show his parents, if jun had parents that weren’t violently homophobic or a home at all to go to. but when joshua wants something, he doesn’t budge, and his methods of persuasion include edging jun and making him beg to come till he agrees to whatever awful idea joshua had propositioned that day. 

he’s cleaning jun up after, speaking so softly he strains to hear. “it’ll be fun, won’t it? besides, they deserve it you know, keeping all that money to themselves. and  _ fuck _ , jun, the other day i saw this guy spend four hundred dollars on a t-shirt, a fucking  _ t-shirt _ !” 

never mind that joshua had only witnessed that because he was spending two hundred dollars on  _ jeans _ in the same store.

(they make his bony ass look  _ good,  _ so jun can’t complain. It’s not like he isn’t guilty of the same thing anyway).

t-shirt guy is really cute apparently. 

he makes that assessment himself, sitting in his car and watching the man step into what he assumes (and laters confirms) is a recording studio. he’s coming into work at eleven thirty on a wednesday, dressed in designer sweatpants and a delicately embroidered snapback. it makes jun’s head hurt trying to price the outfit alone, but it’s probably nearly a thousand. he edits that number when he catches sight of a rolex on the man’s wrist ten hours later when he finally leaves.

lee jihoon is five foot four, instagram worthy, hip hop chic,  _ filthy fucking rich _ . 

joshua describes him like a calabasas wet dream, sighs dreamily when he mentions  _ infinity pool _ and  _ sports cars _ and  _ one thousand two hundred square foot  _ **_closet_ ** **.  
** it doesn’t take much more googling till they’ve dug up rumors upon rumors (a good eighty percent of which jun is  _ sure _ are true) and they realize that maybe joshua might be more jihoon’s style. 

jun is jealous. apparently jihoon’s  _ come _ tastes like money too, but that’s what he hears from joshua.

they haven’t really planned this one out.

they’re mostly used to holding up grocery stores, a bank or a jewelry store if they’re feeling brave, and one time jun had fucked a salesman while josh stole every expensive looking thing from the man’s living room. the last one turned out to be a very good plan that they would repeat a dozen more times, and they’d just lie low for what? a couple weeks? a month or two? and who’s to say jun doesn’t sit on another middle aged dick, milk that week’s businessman’s daddy issues for all their worth while josh ransacks whatever expensive apartment jun’s been brought back to. 

they’ve never stayed on a job for this long, and it’s starting to make him anxious.

joshua comes back in the mornings, neck marked up with purple spots that look  _ painful _ , always wobbling when he collapses into bed with jun, curls around him like he never wants to let go. jihoon’s a good fuck but he’s  _ mean _ too, and jun spends hours kissing over the spots, soothing them with his tongue till joshua feels himself again. he doesn’t get to leave new ones, not when joshua expects to be back by jihoon’s side that night or the one after, so he kisses over the same bruises, pretends he was the one that left them there in the first place. nevermind that jun would never leave bruises along joshua’s  _ ribs _ \- neither of them are into that, could never  _ dream _ of actually  _ hurting _ each other. 

the benefit of all this, if there’s any, is that jihoon spoils joshua to  _ shit _ , takes him out to fancy restaurants, buys rings and bracelets and clothes, a new cell phone, lingerie and sex toys (jun gets to have fun with these too, but jihoon doesn’t know that). 

it takes about two weeks for joshua to crack the code on jihoon’s safe, and from then on it’s a free for all. there’s only so much he can steal from around the house before he gets noticed, but jihoon’s got a trip to new york in june,  _ work _ , and the night before he fucks joshua till he’s writhing, screaming and begging to come. when jun comes over later he lets joshua rest, massages his shoulders till he’s melting into the bed, moaning softly just from jun’s hands. in two hours he’s got as much as he can carry stuffed into a duffel bag and he’s carrying joshua out the front door bridal style, crooning to one of jihoon’s more sappy love songs. it’s a little bit of a struggle to carry them both (joshua and a ratty duffel bag now worth tens of thousands dollars) over three dead security guards, but junhui is stubborn and joshua laughs so genuinely for the first time in weeks that he makes it past through pure determination.

(they’re not coming back to los angeles for a while, they decide. not worth the risk, because once jihoon comes back and finds out what’s happened it won’t be safe for either of them. joshua especially, but junhui is not exactly innocent either. And even if he was, whatever trouble josh is in is his too.

he doesn’t feel any relief thill they’re outside the city limit, till the sun is rising in the sky and he’s sure they’re somewhere in nevada by now. 

joshua leans his head on junhui’s shoulder, legs tangled with his as they lay sprawled over the back seat. it’s the last time they’ll fuck in this car because tomorrow morning they’re going to burn it. it cost a good chunk of money, but it’s nothing they can’t replace, nothing they even care about. maybe this time they’ll get a nicer car, one with an aux cord so they can listen to music and roam the desert, windows down and hot breeze on their skin, free spirits or whatever. they don’t really have a plan, but they don’t need one either. 

he turns his head, looks at the moonlight pouring over joshua’s tanned thighs, the arm wrapped his waist, how fucking  _ serene _ joshua looks, the most calm he’s been in a while. 

if joshua asked, he’d do this all over again, just for this moment, just this reminder that all he needs is  _ him _ .)

joshua is like, really bad at poker, it turns out. he’s got shit luck at the slot machines too, but he doesn’t mind spending his afternoons on the strip, spa days and five hundred dollar brunches and shopping bags that he needs jun’s help carrying. las vegas is as glamorous as they thought it would be, luxurious and fantastic and they could probably spend years here if they wanted, getting drunk by midday and fucking in a different penthouse suite every night. it’s opulent and gorgeous and jun  _ loves it _ , loves the way everything just  _ smells _ like money, from the sun baking him golden to the dior shades he buys for the both of them so they can lounge like cats in the heat, stretched out and lazy and without a care in the world.

junhui, on the other hand, eats breathes and shits pure luck.

it’s probably the only reason he’s still alive, and of course, it’s why he’s cashing out piles of chips every night. joshua sits on his lap while he plays, draped over him like silk, murmuring into his ear while the other players watch on. josh is pretty, always has been, with his feline eyes and the coquettish curve of his lips, but dressed in versace, sky high heels and the most expensive wig they could find, he is simply  _ irresistible _ . he’s like sex in stilettos, and it’s hard not to get turned on just  _ looking _ at him, harder still when joshua is rubbing his cock not so discreetly under the table. 

the final touch is a diamond choker ( _ the _ diamond coker), so wide it covers his adam’s apple, so embellished jun feels too poor to even  _ look  _ at him, and he’s wearing a suit worth several thousand. 

and at the end of every night, when they’re both giggling and tipsy and rich, so fucking  _ rich _ they could retire from their life of debauchery and never worry about money ever, they return to a tiny little motel at the edge of the city, where it’s just them and a couple of sparse, tiny, shitty little buildings and the endless desert. joshua doesn’t take off the dress when he fucks him, and jun isn’t ashamed to admit the hardest he’s ever orgasmed is when he’s bending over for josh in drag.

it’s at the motel that they meet chan, a month into vegas and still drunk on honeymoon vibes. he looks like he’s been wearing the same clothes for weeks (and really, he might have been) and he’s counting coins at the reception, begging the motel owner to have a little mercy. 

they pay for him, and the next morning they take chan to a diner, exchange glances between them when chan scarfs down enough for three people. he’s a growing boy, nineteen and so fucking scrawny it makes jun’s heart hurt to just look at him. 

joshua stirs the spoon in his coffee idly, like if he didn’t keep his hands busy he’ll explode. josh is softer than him, always has been, even if he never admits it. 

jun buys a new car that day, a used one, and the paint is peeling at the sides but he doesn’t have that many options when he’s trying to do things under the radar. joshua pawns off everything he can, stuffs all their cash and what little clothes they have left into the trunk of the car, and within a day they’re out of vegas, back on the highway to california. 

chan is not going home, and they won’t make him. he doesn’t tell them about his parents, but it’s clear enough they’re the source of the problem.

chan falls asleep against joshua’s shoulder in the back seat, and jun rolls the windows down, lets the hot breeze come in. there’s no music, but he can see the stars at night, so clear and bright this far away from the city. its nine hours to san francisco, but the sky is so pretty, the wind so crisp - jun feels endless, like he can’t tell where the breeze stops and his fingertips start, like the desert was infinite and he was too. they don’t have a plan, he’s not sure chan has one either, but he doesn’t think they need one. free spirits or whatever. 

by july they’ve convinced chan that he does, in fact, need to go back to university. his parents might not be paying for him, but chan is too smart, too good of a kid to be wasting on the streets like them. he’d rather be homeless than take a loan and be in debt for the rest of his life, but they don’t think either option is all that good.

it’s the fourth time he’s crying in jun’s arms, and his heart still breaks like it’s the first. he’s so  _ scared _ , hadn’t even dropped out, had just picked up his things and resigned himself to life of misery. he still won’t tell them what happened between him and his parents, or why they refuse to pay his tuition anymore.  
they’re spending the summer in a two star hotel in berkeley, and they’ve got a separate room for chan. the boy has every opportunity to run from them, but he doesn’t, and jun wonders if it’s because he’s too scared to or if he’s already attached. chan doesn’t seem like he has that many friends if his first option was to run away. 

joshua sits down half way through july, in a diner much like the first time, and tells him very frankly that he needs to go back to university. chan opens his mouth to retort, give the same half-baked excuses that he’d given before, but joshua waves his butter knife like a machete, careless and threatening all in one.

he goes on a spiel about opportunities and hope and dreams and tells chan he’s too fucking smart to not be getting his degree, that he’s bright and young and shouldn’t be so scared because he’s better than he thinks he is. he says this all while cutting through a stack of blueberry pancakes, doesn’t even look up, and jun just grins. where joshua stops, he picks up the dialogue before a teary eyed chan can even think of replying.  
“and don’t worry about the money. we’ll pay for you. fuck, we’ll set up a bank account right now if you want, but you’re going to university.”

he hasn’t discussed this with josh, had said it impulsively, but joshua nods, like they’d planned this, so steadfast that chan just cries. jun comes round to the other side of the booth and the fifth time chan cries on his shoulder it’s not so bad.

of course, things are more likely to go according to plan if they had a plan. 

jun stays behind to help chan move into his dormitory in august, but joshua has already skipped state. he’d nearly been mugged back at the beginning of the month -  _ nearly _ being the keyword, because joshua knows how to put a man in a chokehold in four seconds flat. The issue with that is that he might have gone a little too far, maybe snapped a neck, and so he’s lying low somewhere in utah till the dust settles. jun would have gone with him, can’t bear to be apart, will kill himself if he has to spend more than a month just getting off to the sound of josh’s voice, but he promised chan he’d stay and he’ll follow through on this. 

chan’s a good kid. jun leaves him with a year’s worth of tuition, promises that they’ll be back by january, or at least may to give him more money, but chan doesn’t seem so hopeless at the prospect of not being able to pay for university. 

when that’s a done deal, september comes and jun’s got too much time and money on his hands to be this bored. 

joshua would probably still be at university if it weren’t for him, he wonders. he’d realized it a long time ago, had weighed the thought, rolled it around his tongue and decided it wasn’t such a bitter pill to swallow. there’s nothing he’s done to joshua that he never wanted, that josh himself had dragged out of jun. 

to think that he’d ever thought of them as  _ opposites _ .

maybe he had, just that first night, when he’d kissed him in the bar, had groped his ass till he’d gotten joshua’s wallet out of his back pocket and into his own. and maybe he’d kissed him a little longer, just because he could, pressed him up against the wall and ground their hips together, till joshua was all but begging to get fucked, pretty neck stretched for jun’s mouth to ravish, lips pleading for something more, just a little more. 

jun wonders if it would have turned out different, if he’d stayed instead of disappearing back into the crowd, into the bar, out the back door. he’d gotten three more wallets by the time he was home, counting bills between his wiry fingers.  _ home _ had been an abandoned apartment building, a room where he was squating all by himself, a mattress on the floor with his spare cash stuck between the exposed springs. he’s still got scars from sticking his hand in precariously one too many times, from letting the metal wires cut him open. jun had never cared about the state of his living quarters because he spent so little time in them. 

he never learned how joshua had found him so fast - just seven hours later he’s woken up with joshua’s foot on his throat, sneering above him. how - just  _ how _ , he’ll never know, and he sort of doesn’t want to. doesn’t want to taint the memory of spreading his legs, joshua dragging the flat of a knife down his spine while he fucked into him, hard and fast and hurting so good. two months shy of twenty and it takes getting his knees bloody and his throat fucked raw to realize he’s capable of so much more than pick-pocketing and mid-level buffoonery. 

that night changed a lot of things, for the both of them. 

jun likes to think he’s always been a thrill-seeker, always been stupid and risk taking and impulsive, but he’s worse with joshua.

joshua - the very epitome of calm, an oasis in a boiling desert, whose voice soothes junhui’s nerves better than any drug. joshua, who croons into jun’s ear, talks about how pretty they’d look in gold, how he wants jun to fuck him when they’re in nothing but jewelry, chains and links and diamonds and sweat, skin against skin, and jun buys them both semi-automatics the next day so they can rob a small jewelry store across the city. they’ve got a small collection, mostly pearls and silver, but joshua gets his ears pierced the day after and jun fucks him the back of their car, parked in the basement of the police commissioners apartment building, right next to her mercedez.

(jun had half a mind to steal that too, at least fuck in it, but josh -  _ josh _ had just sat on his lap, played with the half dozen necklaces he’d draped over his bare neck and said they didn’t have time to waste).

by now they’ve pawned off most of it, kept just a few pieces (a couple rings, a diamond choker ( _ the _ diamond choker), a gold  _ J _ on a chain, just one) for the two of them. jun  _ knew _ realistically, that they’d have to sell them slowly, over time, maybe in a couple different cities, but he’s far too impatient. josh organized it, made sure they followed through, even if it meant they were carrying hundreds of thousands in jewelry in the trunk of their car for months. it made him anxious to have anything but cold hard cash in his hands, untraceable, unknowable, glorious and green. 

and joshua.

always him, but jun doesn’t see him again till it’s nearly october. joshua’s got them both jobs at a golf course in arizona, an apartment too, a space all their own. it’s just for a month, maybe two, however long it takes for them to get bored and jump ship, or maybe something explodes and they’ll just have to go anyway. but jun doesn’t care, christens every room of their new home and fucks josh on every surface he can, tearing at each other's skin, trying to make up for lost time with kisses and bruises and cock.

it’s nearly halloween, a warm wednesday morning when joshua nudges his elbow. jun nearly drops the tray he’s holding ( _ god _ , he fucking hates this job), and turns to see where joshua is looking. 

there’s a young man, blonde, fucking  _ ethereal _ , eating breakfast with his family. the yoons, if he remembers right, old money and pockets spilling with real estate. a quick google confirms that their youngest son has indeed got his eyes on jun, the unmistakable look of  _ want _ in them, and jun looks up and down, takes a note of every brand name item he’s wearing and goes weak at the knees. joshua grins, leans over to whisper. “ _ are you thinking what i’m thinking?”  _

(he’s fucked josh on money only once - had undone a two dozen stacks of bills and spread them out over their bed. joshua had looked so pretty, so gorgeous when he came over his own stomach, surrounded by  _ money _ , sweat drenched and looking like a million dollars and more. the two things he loves most in the world, and he’d cum on top of both of them.

when they clean up, giggling and warm and exchanging kisses while they iron out crumpled bills, jun burns the ones that are too filthy to ever use again. he does so without a shred of remorse, would do it all over again, and wonders if he only really loves one thing.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!!! if u have any feedback i'd really appreciate it


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